AT REFUGE

by: Lee Timberlake

T night

Haunted and scant clad,

I fled my sorrow

Into a garden.

 

Tall lilies

Pressed pale cheeks

Against my ravished breast

And shed golden tears.

 

A rose vine

Drew in her thorns

To passionately entwine my thighs,

Bedewing my mouth, while

 

Violets broke precious perfume

Across my feet,

And pansies pleaded wisdom,

With upturned judicial faces.

 

I was comforted.

• Purchase books of erotic poetry